


Well, that was unexpected.

by QCumberShaw



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Anal Sex, Bond has no idea, Denial, First Time, Fucking, M/M, Oral Sex, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Content, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-07
Updated: 2013-04-04
Packaged: 2017-12-04 14:47:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/711918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QCumberShaw/pseuds/QCumberShaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bond is a very successful agent. He now has a problem that he doesn't know how to fix. He has a résumé of female conquests. So why is Q infiltrating his mind?</p><p>In other words, Bond fancies Q and this is unchartered territory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

New world, bloody order. Fuck that, he thought. He picked up the case and walked smartly out of the Gallery. M thought he was getting too old, too unpredictable, though, she knew that anyway, so why was she being so bloody minded this time. He smirked to himself, concern masking itself as outrage, though he had been somewhat taken aback when she’d said that he was fit for active service, so he’d take all she said with a pinch of salt. He knew he was nowhere near bloody ready. 

 

The new quartermaster was an outward sign of how things were changing and he could tell that he thought Bond was a bit of a necessary evil. He was right of course about how much damage Q could do, but he’d be no good at close kills, persuasion, doing their really dirty work. A gun and a radio. He mused, well I suppose it’s an admission that sometimes, the old ways are the best. He cheered up at that thought and hailed a taxi for the airport.

 

Q’s youth had surprised him, though on closer inspection, it seemed he was older than a cursory glance at his appearance suggested, but still, early thirties at best and head of Q branch. Bond smiled wryly. He couldn’t complain too much though, he was their best agent by his mid thirties and bloody successful - he was still alive almost a decade later. So he must be good. He hoped so, he was more than likely to have to trust him with his life in probably the very near future. Intellectually, he was obviously going to be on the genius level, no doubt had a disturbed upbringing, possibly poor social skills and very little personal life. A given, if he was wedded to his work as his promotion seemed to show. Should be good then.

 

He was. Subsequent events proved so and, surprisingly, that his social skills were fine, there was humour and banter between them and he was prepared to bend the rules. Always a good thing in Bond’s book. They were going to get along just fine.

 

Then he realised that Tanner, M and Moneypenny had taken him under his wing, no doubt his deceptively youthful and slight presence made them feel all motherly. Bond sighed and tried to make a conscious effort to bring back his kit in one piece. Their revenge, there was no other word for it, could be quite creative.

 

Moneypenny stopped flirting with James and flirted with Q instead. Much to Bond’s amusement, Q was oblivious on the whole, too busy with his latest assignment and then answering her back with a witty retort when he did bother to engage.

 

He was getting used to hearing Q’s soft voice in his ear. In quiet interludes, they would chat about random things, building a picture in each other’s minds about some inconsequential event or observation. On one particularly tedious mission, Q had been shopping when Bond called and they’d discussed food choices as he carried on. Q had of course tried to tell him not to, as he was off duty and there was no emergency. In the end, he relented and offered to pick him up something if he was going to be home soon. Bond laughed and cut the connection, returning home five days later with the equipment intact. Q smiled. Bond was unexpectedly overwhelmed by that and felt a rush of pleasure at gaining Q’s approval.

 

His next mission involved seducing his mark’s wife. He looked at the briefing. She was beautiful and very intelligent according to her profile. Bond sighed. For once, he really couldn’t be bothered. They met as he’d been instructed, he had to be subtle, her husband was the jealous, possessive type and a killer. Bond had enough innocent blood on his hands and he didn’t want her to end up the same way. He loved women, but didn’t really want to get involved, he had done so and, well... it was too painful to dwell on the past. This was purely business, albeit usually very pleasurable.

 

Their conversation was light, outwardly dull to anyone watching, but he knew he’d caught her interest. She remarked that her husband was away for the next two nights and left. Bond knew that she’d seen his room number on his bar tab. He had another drink, casually reading the paper that had been left on the bar. Q’s voice broke into his reverie.

 

“Shall we do the crossword while we wait?” Bond grinned. He knew that Q could see him from the bar monitors.

 

“Why not?” Q finished it in a few minutes. Bond sighed.

 

“Show off.” He whispered.

 

“Well, you don’t want to keep the lady waiting.”Q chuckled as Bond rose and went the lift.

 

“You don’t seem too enthusiastic. What’s up?” Bond raised his eyebrow in surprise. “I’d thought she was your type, going by your past encounters.” Bond frowned. “I mean that in a helpful way, I’m not going to lecture you on morals.” He paused. “If you don’t want to, we can send someone else.” He said hesitantly. Bond grinned into the camera.

 

“Aww, thank you for your concern, but I’m fine. It must be my age.” He winked and got out.

 

She knocked on the door a few minutes later and Bond let her in. She really was beautiful.

 

He thrust hard against her. Outwardly, things were going really well, he was skilled and attentive and she was enthusiastic, but his mind was unfocused. He needed to come, but couldn’t quite get there yet. Right, think. He had a repertoire of images for moments like this. He ran through a few, eyes tightly closed. He heard Q whisper something to one of his staff and his mind caught on one image that he didn’t want. He pressed his lips to her throat as his subconscious threw in the image of Q lying there, calling his name and pressing against him and he came explosively. The thought was pushed back into his subconscious.

 

They had sex again later, she’d obviously enjoyed it as had he. Eventually. This time he kept his thoughts under control. It was fine. 

 

The second night, he really didn’t want to, but he still needed to gain her trust, so he had to. She was being very, very good with her tongue, but little was happening. Bond closed his eyes. The mission depended on him, he’d done worse for his country. He wasn’t into men, didn’t mind that others were, but it wasn’t his thing, he loved women, but if it would work to get an erection, so be it. He thought of Q’s tongue licking his cock as she was doing, his eyes looking into his. Desire filled him and he was hard. Oh, my god, I want Q to suck my cock. He moaned with the realization and she redoubled her efforts, making him harder. By the time they were fucking, the whole scenario in his head was getting out of hand. Later he lay thinking. His thoughts were rational now, he knew he’d got off on various dubious kinks before, this was just another, doing something you wouldn’t do in real life. He would definitely never do in real life.

 

The mission was a success.

 

“Well done Bond, you managed to rise to the occasion.” Q grinned wickedly. Bond actually blushed.

 

“You have no idea what I had to put my self through.”

 

“I can imagine.” Q laughed.

 

“I bloody hope not.” Retorted Bond. Q raised his eyes in anticipation.

 

“Pray, do tell.” He grinned. “Can’t be much that you’d get up to that would shock me.” Bond felt that telling him that he’d pretended to fuck him and it was bloody good, might, so he smiled instead and kept quiet.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Target practice.

The next few missions mercifully, involved killing and explosions and life returned to normal. He walked back into Q’s office after his latest one to find it empty. A quiet knot of disappointment formed in his stomach. He looked inquiringly at one of the techs.

 

“He’s in Armory.” Bond nodded his thanks and went to find him.

 

Q was shooting at a target. Bond watched for a few moments, noting his stance and technique. He wasn’t too bad at all, but Bond knew a few tweaks that would improve him. He waited until he went to reload before approaching him. Q startled.

 

“Sorry, don’t mind me, I just came to return my stuff.”

 

“Intact?”

 

“Of course.” Q grinned.

 

“I swear someone’s switched you. That’s been a hundred percent return over the last six months.” Bond glowed under his praise. Christ, I feel like a bloody schoolboy being praised by my teacher.

 

“I try my best.” He almost fluttered his eyelashes. He pulled himself together. “You’re not bad.”

 

“Surprised double-0?”

 

“Very.”

 

“I value my self preservation and take my training seriously.” Bond looked at him closely. He was wearing a shirt and his sleeves were rolled up. Despite his slight build, Bond could see that his muscles were toned.

“So I see. Good, very good.” He hesitated. “Would you like a few pointers, I could improve your accuracy.” Q looked at him, assessing his offer. Agents didn’t really train tech staff, and it wasn’t really an offer to turn down. “It’s for my benefit really.” Q laughed.

 

“Fine.”

 

Fine? Talk about gratitude. He realised that he’d hoped for breathless enthusiasm and a fawning eagerness to learn from the master. Bond cleared his throat and moved a little closer and behind him to observe properly. Q turned and looked at him.

 

“If you tell me where I’m going wrong, I can make the appropriate adjustments. Bond opened his mouth to protest in surprise, then realised, that yes, he probably could, so he told him and stepped back. He watched Q do micro adjustments to his stance and fired. Better, the next was even more accurate. He finished. Bond looked. A good ten percent improvement. Q turned to see his expression and Bond grinned. Q smirked.

 

“Right then, that’s the easy bit, taking your time lining up a shot, now drop the muzzle down, then raise and fire. It needs to be in your muscle memory. Target practice is one thing, but shooting under duress, another, you need to know instinctively.”

 

“I don’t need…”

 

“You do.” His face was hard and Q looked at him in surprise, mouth open to protest, then relented at the impassive Bond stare.

 

“Fine.” As expected, he was way off target, so Bond made him try again and again, barking orders. The more frustrated Q got, the more Bond pushed him. He began to tire, so Bond stepped closer, guided his arm swiftly up and hit the target square in the chest, pushed his arm down, raised and fired again.

 

“Like that.”

 

“Fuck you.” Q snarled at him, barely resisting the urge to fling his gun down and storm off because he knew better that compromise safety. He pulled away and unloaded the gun, rage emanating from him. Bond swore silently to himself.

 

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed you so far, but you’re good, very good and could be better.”

 

“I don’t intend being a field operative, so piss off.”

 

“No, but you could be a target and I want you to be safe.” Q turned and raised his eyes at him.

 

“Why do you care?” Bond considered.

 

“You keep me safe, so I’m being entirely selfish.” Not, ‘I want to keep you safe,’ It was half of the truth.

 

“So altruistic Bond.”

 

“You cheeky sod.”

 

“True though.”

 

“Fine. Q, I don’t want anything to happen to you, so please practice your shooting skills and self defence while you’re at it. Better?” He could see that Q had calmed down and was preparing to engage in further verbal sparring, but he wasn’t in the mood as the truth of his words hit home.

 

“So I’ll see you same time tomorrow?” With that he turned and left.

 

He strode quickly out of the room and along a few corridors before stopping and leaning against the wall. He realised that he was trembling slightly and his chest was tight. He let his head fall back against the wall as he composed himself. Q was potentially vulnerable given his position and Bond wouldn’t always be there to protect him, so he needed to damn well look after himself. Why couldn’t he see that? His body began to relax and he carried on walking. Funny how he hadn’t felt as protective about the old Q. His gadgets and intel are better. Yeah, that’d be it.

 

Bond gave the problem no more thought and turned up at the same time the following day. The range was empty, so he practiced. The day after, Q was waiting, he’d obviously got over his hissy fit and nothing further was said. Bond worked him hard and when he could see his muscles start to twitch from fatigue, he carried on for a further ten minutes before calling it a day.

 

The third day, he could tell Q’s arms were already sore and they exchanged glances, wondering whether to go easy on him. He didn’t. Bond caught Q’s grin at the end of the session and left swiftly before his cold demeanor cracked.

 

M summoned him for a two, possibly three week jaunt to Eastern Europe and he left on the next plane. Gun, radio, ear piece and dossier provided by someone else.

 

“I’m getting nowhere.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Helpful.”

 

“Yes.” The silence lengthened.

 

“I’ve been practicing.”

 

“Good.”

 

“My arms don’t shake anymore.” Bond laughs.

 

“So you’ve got muscles at last?”

 

“I did before, they’re even better now.” Bond bites his lip.

 

“This I have to see.” Q laughs, a mixture of delight and embarrassment.

 

“Hmm, equipment back…”

 

“...in one piece, yeah, I know the drill. I’ll guard it with my life.”

 

“Been practicing my self defence too, I told one of the other agents that you were concerned for my well being, so they’ve being giving me lessons too.”

 

“Has he?” That wasn’t a flash of jealousy, just disappointment that he hadn’t offered to do so.

 

“She.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“More my size, don’t you think?”

 

“Q,” he admonished. “We’re an equal ops killing agency…”

 

“I know, she’s brutal.” He can hear his fingers taping on the keyboard.

 

“Hmm, think I may have something to break your boredom. The second in command has just got back, I’m sending you info. She looks your type.” Bond flushed slightly.

 

“My type? Hope do you know I have a type? Things can change.” Q laughs.

 

“Well looking at your files… and besides female, attractive and dangerous…”

 

“Yeah, well, since you put it like that.” The data arrives and he reads through.

 

“She’ll be at a reception tonight, I’ve put you on the guest list.”

 

The seduction is easy, too easy, she probably knows or suspects, but nothing is moving events forward so he goes along with it. He’s been here three weeks already and wants to go home. He kisses her, her lips are sensual and she smells amazing. This time he does want her, but he allows his mind to wander and Q is there and he wants him and he doesn’t mind.


	3. Chapter 3

“Can you hold off detonation for thirty secs?”

 

“No.. Why?”

 

“Just need to retrieve something.”  

 

“Doesn’t matter, get out…"

“Count for me.”

 

“Bond…” Silence.

 

“Stupid bastard.” He starts counting. Thirty passes and the silence continues.

 

“Did you not use elephants?”

 

“Fuck off.”

 

Bond walks along the corridor to Q branch examining the radio, there are a few scuffs, but he thinks it counts as still being in one piece, certainly in better shape than if he hadn’t retrieved it. His pleased smirk disappears as he realizes that Q’s office is empty. He catches the attention of one of the techs.

 

“He’s in the gym.” Bond raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, everyday now.” Bond’s surprise grows. Seeing the equipment in Bond’s hands, the tech moves towards him. “I can take that.”

 

“No, I’d rather hand it over in person, it’s all intact.” The tech laughs.

 

“Blimey, a red letter day.” Bond grins and leaves.

 

The gym. The idea of a sweaty, breathless Q is frankly... Bond pauses his thoughts and enters quietly. He stands watching the two figures for a moment. Q is surprisingly graceful and quick. Obviously Erica with her years of training is effortless, but Q is holding his own. He walks into the changing room wondering if he should change and do a workout. He’s tired, tense after weeks of inactivity, followed by a surging, adrenaline filled near disaster of a mission. Near disaster and uninjured. Not too bad he supposes. A hard workout would be good. As he opens his locker, he hears Q come in. He looks surprised to see Bond and also, though it disappears quickly, happy.

 

“You look good.” He’s surprised to see Q blush slightly.

 

“Umm…” Bond’s head nods to the gym.

 

“In there.”

 

“Oh, yeah. Seems I’ve taken your advice to heart.”

 

“Good.” Bond smiles delightedly at him. This time Q’s blush is deeper. Bond feels suddenly awkward, then remembers his equipment.

 

“Here.” He hands it over. “It’s intact.” Q takes it, almost reverentially and looks it over.

 

“So it is.” He grins and places it in his locker and hesitates for a moment.

 

“I’m going to have a shower, so you can check out my muscles as I change if you want to.” He flashes Bond a sly grin and a wink.

 

“Cheeky sod.” Bond pulls out his gym kit as Q undresses and he tries very hard not to glance in his direction, well, not until Q walks to the shower and has his back to him. Bloody hell, Q. He’s still willowy, lean, but his body is firm and his muscles are defined and his arse is… glorious. Bond swallows hard. Q turns his head as he steps into the shower and his green eyes catch Bond’s gaze. He sees him hesitate, about to say something, but stops himself and steps in. Bond leans his head on the locker. He’s hard and he wants to walk into the shower and fuck Q. No, he wants to kiss him endlessly, then fuck him. Instead he pulls on his sweats and pushes his body to near exhaustion in the gym before going home and sleeping for the next twelve hours.

 

The morning light wakes him, eventually and he lies there, his waking thoughts, he notes, drifting to Q. He told himself before that it was because they worked together so much and he literally had his life in his hands. He liked his banter and his intelligence, even didn’t mind when he was pissed off with him, usually with good cause, he had to admit. Now, however, he was thinking of his hair, his eyes, his body. He wished that he’d waited to see him emerge from the shower. That thought made him even more aroused and he touched his cock lightly. Did Q want him though? He’d no idea. He’d been trying so hard to not admit his attraction, that he realised that he’d been keeping a neutral distance from him, avoiding eye contact and not picking up on any non verbal cues to try and put off the inevitable. He’d assessed him shooting and trained him as a professional, he hadn’t flirted at all or taken any advantage of their proximity, nor had any innuendo passed his lips on their comms. He sat up with the knowledge. That was so out of character that Q must have noticed. He lay back. No wonder he was pissed off with him on the range. Hmm.

 

He thought about his laugh when he’d mentioned checking out his muscles, did he want him to? And as for the self defence, was he really just taking his advice or he trying to impress him? And as for letting him stare at his arse… talk about an invite. In other circumstances he would’ve definitely taken advantage, but he hadn’t been sure. Maybe Q was as uncertain, especially given his track record and the fact that getting involved with a double-0 was probably the worst possible thing he could do. He jumped out of bed and walked into his bathroom. He’d need to find out.

 

His tray slid onto the table opposite Erica.

 

“Lunch with James. What a treat.” She smiled lazily at him. “What have I done to deserve this honour? And why isn’t it dinner?”

 

“Busy of course and you know it could compromise our working relationship…” Erica snorted before he could say anything else.

 

“God, James, I’m perfectly capable of shagging you without falling for you.”

 

“I know.” He took a bite of his sandwich. She surveyed him as he chewed.

 

“So what are you after?”

 

“After?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Nothing.” They ate in silence for a while, then she grinned.

 

“The new quartermaster.” Bond stopped eating.

 

“What of him?”

 

“Well, I can’t think of any other reason for your appearance here. I’m training him and you’re interested.”

 

“Interested?” His voice sounded a little tight, but he hoped that the fact that his was eating would account for that.

 

“Yes. He’s your favourite contact on missions, do you think I want to steal him away?” Bond laughed.

 

“No, but you’re right, I do like him, he is very good, on tech and stuff that is, rather than anything else.” He frowned at her. “I, umm, just wanted to see how his training was coming along, thought I could do today’s training, if that’s okay.” She looked surprised.

 

“Are you mad? Do you want him hospitalized?”

 

“I won’t hurt him, he’s far too valuable.” And too desirable. He smiled winningly at her. She shrugged and returned to her food. Her casual air didn’t fool Bond, she was curious and would no doubt be keeping an eye on him to see what he was up too. Or maybe that was his paranoia?

 

Q was engrossed in his laptop as usual when Bond entered, so he sat down silently on a vacant chair and waited. He was good at that and settled his mind into a half watchful, half introspective state. He could tell that Q was mindful of him after a while, his typing lost some its fluency and his shoulders stiffened slightly, he could see him deciding whether to speak to him or ignore him and choose the latter. Ten minutes later he gave up.

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing.” The typing stopped, then resumed.

 

“Go away then, I’m busy.”

 

“That’s okay, I’m fine.” Q turned to look at him with a sigh.

 

“Look, whatever it is you’re up to, tell me and leave or just leave. This is really important.” He frowned at Bond, not quite making eye contact and Bond’s heart sank a little.

 

“Sorry, I’ll come back later.” He rose and left, his face impassive. He allowed himself a deep breath once he was in the corridor. Thank fuck he’d not tried flirting with Q.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They fight.

Q stopped short, surprise evident on his face at seeing Bond.

 

“What are you doing here?”

“I want to see what you’ve learned. Erica’s good, but she’s familiar to you now, so let’s try something different.” He watched Q tilt his head slightly and consider.

 

“Fine.”

 

“You said that before.”

 

“I did.” Q nodded as he remembered.

 

“Look where that got you.”

 

“Better.” He smiled in agreement.

 

“Indeed.”Bond practically purred.

 

“I might hurt you.”

 

“Good.”

 

“Really?” Q looked surprised.

 

“You can try.” Bond watched him as him walked to the changing room. He’d considered not bothering after all, but he couldn’t keep away. After thinking about Q’s behavior, he decided, well, he hoped, that he’d been like that because he was actually doing something of national importance. He obviously wasn’t as good at multitasking as Bond. He smiled to himself. Then again, Bond did have a few years experience on him.

 

He heard Q approach, although his bare feet hardly made a sound. Bond waited for him to get closer. A faint scent of sweat mixed with washing powder from his gym kit drifted into Bond’s consciousness.

 

“Ready?” Bond tensed slightly. He didn’t want to spar with him, he wanted Q to put his arms around him, pull him close.

 

“Yes.”

 

He reached back with one arm to pull him forward and onto his back, but Q was gone. Bond smiled. Not bad. He turned and faced him. Q was still, hyper ready, and crouched slightly. Bond moved quickly, swung towards him and hooked a leg under Q’s, he staggered back, unbalanced and fell, rolling to the side before Bond could pin him down. He was on his feet again and they circled each other, finding a space and attacking where they could. Bone crunched against bone and as contact increased, Bond knew Q wasn’t going to hold back. He watched his eyes, he didn’t expect any concessions, so he allowed himself to slightly relax the limits of harm he would let himself inflict on Q.

 

Their contact intensified, limbs locked and pulled, their bodies slammed against the mat, wrestling for supremacy. Bond grabbed Q around the waist. Christ, he was so slight. His lack of a true hold as he felt the narrowness of his hips, allowed Q to slip out of his grasp. He laughed and Bond lunged for his thigh, pulling him down as Q’s other leg kicked against his chest. It was probably more forceful than Q had intended and Bond gasped. A flicker of concern crossed his features, but Bond shook his head dismissively, jumping to his feet. Q lay back on his elbows, still slightly sprawled across the mat, an air of concentration on his face and… his mind searched for the right word… wanton abandon in his pose. The thought entered Bond’s head and his guard went down and Q took advantage, kicking his legs from under him. Bond was on his back and Q pressed his arm against his throat, his legs on either side of Bond’s, pinning him down. His breath was fast, but controlled and his free arm grabbed his wrist and held it down. Green eyes stared into his, the pressure on his throat was intense, but he didn’t care. Q blinked rapidly and eased his arm off slightly as Bond gasped, but didn’t break his gaze. He still had a free hand and he could break Q’s hold, but he didn’t want to, he wanted to pull his mouth to his. He moved his hips slightly, ostensibly as a precursor to rolling himself free, but in reality to move against him. Q pushed down harder with his hips and leant forward, his arm moving from his throat to hold Bond’s other arm. His body pressed lightly against Bond’s and a small smile played on his lips.

 

“You let me win.”

 

“Didn’t.” His expression was almost genuine.

 

“I know when you’re not concentrating on the task in hand.”

 

“Who says I’m not?” Q considered him for a moment.

 

“Well, you’re certainly concentrating again now.”

 

“I am, despite distractions.”

 

“Flirting?" Q looked ever so, slightly pleased. "Have you got over whatever’s been bothering you then? It’s been quite a while since you’ve done that with anyone. Welcome back, Bond.” 

 

“Haven’t I?” So he had picked up on it.

 

“No, and I should know.”

 

“Do you like it?” Q flushed slightly.

 

“It’s not very professional.” He sighed. “But it’s you.”

 

“Are you going to keep me pinned down all night? Or is that a precursor to other things?” He held Q’s gaze. How much to pretend to flirt as opposed to show his true intentions? Q hadn’t moved and Bond didn’t want him to. He could feel his cock growing harder. He saw Q look down as he realised that he was sill straddling Bond, his body pressed against him, wrists gripped tightly. He looked back up and grinned wolfishly.

 

“Well, there’s a thing. I have you supine on the floor.” He sighed at the unreality of him overpowering Bond. “And you could have me on my back in seconds.”

 

“Well, there’s a thought.” Q definitely blushed that time. Bond obliged and pushed up and flipped him over, one thigh between his legs, hips pressed together, Q’s hands still around his wrists.

 

“Oh.” Q released his grip and Bond pulled both of his wrists together with one hand, pressing them to the mat and propped himself up on his elbow to look at him.

 

“Fortunately, I’m not a field agent.” Q blinked rapidly.

 

“It is.”

 

“I’m better with keystrokes than unarmed combat.”

 

“You are.”

 

“Keeping things at a distance.” His breath was very slightly irregular.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Providing you with intel so that you can make the right moves.”

 

“Mmm.”

 

“Sometimes you don’t make that easy, you can take a while to come round to my way of seeing things.”

 

“True, I’m rather set in my ways. I know what I like.” Q licked his lips nervously.

 

“Things change, you have to be open to new ways of thinking, what might be better for you.”

 

“I know, I’m beginning to see that.” He swallowed. “Actually, scrub that.” Q frowned. “I can see that now, I’ve been blind to many possibilities until recently. You’ve opened my eyes to things that I want.”

 

All the time he’s been watching Q’s face, the seemingly innocent conversation is laden with meaning if he wants to take it that way and could be brushed off as nothing if need be. He doesn’t want to put Q in a difficult position. Actually, he does. Several that he can think of off the top of his head. Q holds his gaze and a flood of relief spreads throughout his body as he knows that Q is telling him that he’s been a complete idiot not to have noticed that Q rather likes him. A lot. He can feel the warm press of Q’s cock against his groin.

 

“Interesting move. Are you going to bore or fuck him into submission?” He looks up sharply at the sound of Erica’s voice. She’s walking towards them grinning. “Just thought I’d see if Q was still in one piece.” Bond releases Q’s arms and springs up as she speaks.

 

“Very funny. It’s the only opportunity I’ve had to talk to him without him being distracted by his laptop.” Q has sat up, looking flustered of course, but then he does easily.

 

“Yes. He was being an arse, as usual and I’m fine thanks.” He glared at her. “Where were you?”

 

“James wanted you all to himself.” She fluttered her eyelashes at Bond. “How could I refuse?”

 

“Would you like him back? I’ve got what I came for.”  “I’m sure you have.” Erica replied, Bond looked deadpan.

 

“I’ve assessed him. You’ve done well, his hand to hand skills are very good.”

 

“Not going to explore any more of his um, close quarter skills?”

 

“Maybe another time.” Bond smirked at her. “Fancy a drink?” He asked looking at them both.

 

“I’ll take you up on that another time, I’ve a hard session with the punch bag coming up. I’ll try not to think of you.” Q was biting his lip, embarrassment and suppressed laughter vying for supremacy.

 

“You say the nicest things.” Bond kissed her cheek and headed for the changing rooms. “I’ll see you outside in twenty minutes.” He calls back to Q who is still sitting on the mat.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shall we dance (around the subject)?

Bond hurries his shower. Although he is hard and the thought of pulling Q in here with him is tempting, he doesn’t want to fuck him here, well, not tonight. He wants their first time to be rather more prolonged and it will be his first despite what had he’d quipped with Silva. He wonders about Q. He looks too innocent to have ever fucked anyone in his life. His thoughts aren’t helping reduce his erection and he listens until he hears Q in the shower before hurrying out to dress. Fortunately, they are the only ones in the changing room.

 

Q’s hair is still slightly damp and curling provocatively around his neck when he finally meets him. They both have their jackets done up, although it isn’t too cold. He keeps his distance as he stops in front of Bond.

 

“So, a drink?”

 

“Why not? We haven’t yet, I tend to miss the after work drinks.” He smiled. “You know, being away on business.”

 

“Hmm.”

 

“Do my business trips bother you?”

 

“No, it’s not as if I don’t know what you’re up to.”

 

“True”

 

“Does that bother you?”

 

“It’s your job. You’re very good at it.”

 

They walk away from the CCTV of their workplace, and along the Thames and over the bridge, footsteps slowing as they realised that they haven’t a destination in mind.

 

“Where do you fancy?” Bond asks, still undecided as to whether to drag things out or kiss him. They’ve stopped and are looking at each other, well Bond is, Q is looking at the Thames, his head turned, long, pale neck exposed. Bond suppresses the urge to kiss it as Q looks back at him through half lidded eyes.

 

“I don’t know. What about you?” No smart reply from his lips, which he licks unconsciously, they are so red and full. Bond swallows hard.

 

“Umm…” The heat from his body must be evident to Q and if they stood any closer, he’d feel the push of his cock against his trousers and jacket. “Would you prefer to eat?” He asks before he can stop himself. Q blinks in surprise.

 

“No, thanks, I’m too preoccupied for food.” He looks into Bond’s eyes, the green of his irises is barely visible in the dusk.

 

“Oh? Work related? " “Sort of.”

 

“Any clues?” Q considers for a moment, a faint smile on his lips as he starts to relax slightly as Bond holds his gaze.

 

“A particular agent.” Bond raises his brow in a slight question.

 

“Go on.”

 

“If we’re sharing, do you have anything you want to get off your chest?”

 

“Mmm. I do have a bit of a preoccupation too at the moment.”

 

“Really?” Q’s smile widens.

 

“You first.”

 

“He’s quite hard to read, but then that’s his training, hard to figure out, closed, uses a lot of flirtation to cover a multitude of character flaws and doubts. I think he’s still uncertain about a new turn of events. I don’t want him to think he’s making a mistake when he decides to act.” Bond’s pulse increases, the ache in his groin intensifies. Oh, Q.

 

“Perhaps he doesn’t know what his quartermaster wants, he’s so…” He thinks for a moment. “...professional.” Q looks down, his dark lashes rest against his pale skin.

 

“I hear you have a good selection of single malts at your place. I think I need one.” Bond’s grin is unbounded.

 

He pours the scotch carefully. Q is sitting on one end of the sofa, they’ve been keeping their conversation light on the journey over and Q’s been avoiding his gaze. He turns back and hands him his glass. The sofa is long and he’s be considering where to sit. Q’s position at one end makes it more difficult to decide. If he sits at the other, there’s too much space between them, middle, slightly odd and beside him? Too forward. He takes a gulp, his legendary seduction skills obviously on holiday. Q sees his hesitation and drinks too, sitting up slightly and then getting up, eyes flitting around the flat.

 

“Nice place, bit un-lived in though.” He smiles and Bond takes another drink.

 

“Want a tour?” Q nods, sipping.

 

“Living room.”

 

“Very nice.”

 

“Kitchen/dining room.” Q’s eyes take in evidence of use.

 

“You cook?” He asks as they move to the next room.

 

“Very well. Would you like to stay for breakfast?” The words are out before his brain notices. “Bedroom.” He says unnecessarily.

 

“Yes.” He puts his drink down on a small side table and takes Q’s and places it beside his. Q is looking intently at him now, his face isn’t guarded anymore, His lips are parted and he’s regarding Bond with frank need.

 

“I thought you were supposed to be a master of seduction, you total arse.”

 

“You didn’t bloody help, you kept yelling at me.”

 

“That’s my job and besides, I didn’t know what was wrong with you at first and then I didn’t believe it. I mean, me?”

 

“Yes, you. Bloody well got under my skin.” He remembers the first time and grins. “Remember when you wondered if anything I’d thought would ever shock you?” Q nods in agreement.

 

“I can recall all of our conversations, I tend to replay them wondering how to stop thinking about you.” Bond laughs in delight.

 

“Well, in that case it probably won’t have shocked you as much as I thought.” Q grins.

 

“That was the night that you popped into my head and I thought of you as I was fucking her.”

 

“Oh.” Q’s face flushes.

 

“And then again the next night, when she had my cock in her mouth.” Q’s face is even more beautiful as his mind processes the scene.

 

“I voluntarily thought of you from the outset on my last mission.” Q’s breathing is irregular and he takes a step closer.

 

“You didn’t try to seduce me in the changing room yesterday.”

 

“I wanted to be sure you wanted me.” Q’s grin curved up one side of his face.

 

“And tonight? I expected you to join me in the shower, going on previous form. Talk about mixed signals.”

 

“Sorry, you can’t believe how difficult that was for me.” He placed his hand on Q’s cheek and felt him press into it. “I wanted you, but I find I want to take my time exploring you.” Q’s lips parted as Bond’s finger moved across his lips. “We can revisit the showers another day.” He grinned.

 

“So just to be totally clear, this is a mutually assured, destructive need?”

 

“Mmm, well, I don’t know about you, but you’ve certainly destroyed any hopes I had of resisting you, of wanting you to possess me, take me apart. I’m yours.”

Q’s eyes are almost black with desire at Bond’s words, he feels his arms slide around him and pull him closer to him. Bond leans in to him, feeling the hard, warm length of his body against him. His hands slide down Q’s chest, the subtle shifts of his muscles against his ribs under the thin cotton are a delight to him. He’s wanted to touch his body for so long. Q presses against him with his hips as Bond explores him, his breath slightly quicker.

 

“Aren’t you the one who’s supposed to possess me, take me, that’s more your…”

 

“I didn’t care for them.” Q’s breath catches. “I don’t want to take, not this time.”

His lips brush Q’s cheek and he turns his head slightly and they kiss. Heat flashes through his body, Q’s lips move against his, his teeth nip at Bond’s lip, his tongue licks away the sting and Bond wants more. His hands press into Q’s hair, pressing his mouth closer, his kisses soft, then hard, unceasing. Eventually they move apart to breathe.


	6. Chapter 6

“James…” Bond licks Q’s lips at the use of his name and they kiss again. He tastes delicious. Q’s hands stroke his back, then onto his waistband, tugging his shirt out, so that they can slide onto his bare skin. He pushes Bond away slightly and his fingers find his shirt buttons. He holds Bond’s gaze as he slowly, carefully, starts to undo them. It’s maddening, but good. Bond’s fingers trace Q’s face, his neck and slip under the first button of his shirt, then the next until it is undone.

 

Q’s hands move slowly over Bond’s torso and push the shirt off his shoulders. It falls, catching on his bent arms. Q holds a wrist, then the other as he undoes Bond’s cuffs and the shirt falls free. He presses his lips to Bond’s torso and Bond gasps slightly at the feel of his warm, wet lips and tongue sliding and biting gently at his skin. His hands push into Q’s hair, his face buries into it as Q moves up his chest. He inhales his scent, pushing hard against him as his need increases. He doesn’t think he’s going to be able to keep things moving at this pace for much longer. Q looks up at him, face flushed and as wanton as he knows his will be.

 

“Slow is good James, but really…” He pushes away from the wall where Bond now has him and they move backwards to the bed. “Lie down.”

 

Bond does, watching him as he slips off his shirt, then his trousers and socks. He is about to slip off his boxer shorts when Bond shakes his head slightly and he grins and kneels on the bed, knees either side of his hips. Bond looks up at him, his fingers tracing along Q’s narrow torso.

 

“You are so beautiful.” Q’s eyes widen slightly and he blushes. “You are. I’d never lie to you.” The look that passes across Q’s face makes him even harder. His fingers brush the cotton of his shorts, along his hips, inner thighs as Q’s hips twitch, wanting him to touch him. Bond smiles and carries on teasing him until Q bends forwards and bites gently on his lip, pressing the tip of his tongue into his mouth, then pulling back, his green eyes watching Bond’s response as he licks at his throat, nipples and his fingers find his belt buckle. His fingers are nimble and he unhooks the waistband and slides one finger down the zip. Bond’s hips leap in response to his touch and Q laughs. Bond thinks that at this rate he’s going to come before he’s even undressed. Q slides open the zip and parts the fabric and Bond’s cock pushes hard against the thin cotton of his shorts as Q moves and kneels between Bond’s legs, pulling his trousers off.

His hands slide up Bond’s legs and under the edge of his shorts, fingers kneading his thigh muscles, before slipping out, working slowly closer to his cock. He aches with want, but Q doesn’t touch him. Then he leans down and gently kisses the tip and the pleasure is sweet, but fleeting as he tries to press against him, but Q has moved away with a smile, propping himself up on his elbows over him. Bond pulls him closer, his legs wrap around his thighs, one hand on his hips, the other is in his hair, pulling him in to a kiss. Q moves against him, a hand sliding under Bond’s arse, fingers digging into the muscle. Bond’s mind is filled with his need for Q and the sensation of his mouth and body. His hand moves into his shorts, fingers running along the side of Q’s cock. He moans into Bond’s mouth, lifting his hips slightly so that Bond can slide his fingers around him. The sensation of feeling Q’s cock is strange, it’s like his own, yet it is different, he’d never felt a man like this before, familiar yet removed, he knows what will make him come, more than he ever could with a woman. His thumb runs up and over the tip, feeling the seep of moisture, spreading it around the soft pink skin as Q pushes against his hand. He raises his head to look at Bond, lips full and wet. The thought of them around his cock flashes into his mind and his cock twitches harder and he pushes against Q’s groin. Q’s eyes are unfocused, he leans and licks Bond’s ear, his breath hot as he pulls his hips back and reaches round, fingers stroking Bond’s cock through the fabric, finding his balls, cupping them gently, before trailing down the crease of Bond’s arse, pressing gently in, stroking, feeling for Bond’s response. Bond wasn’t sure how he was going to react, but his body moves forward, pressing against his finger tips. He wants him. He wants Q to fuck him as much as he wants to fuck Q. Q’s breath is staccato in his ear.

 

He pushes at Q’s waistband, down over his hips, his fingers sliding over his bare skin as Q pulls his shorts off and does the same to Bond’s. He’s now kneeling on the bed. Bond sits up and pulls him to him, gently biting his lower lip, his neck, his stubble grazing Q’s torso as his lips find his nipples, teasing them, making them hard. Q sighs, cock rubbing against Bond’s stomach. Bond’s hands slide down his back, curving round his arse, his fingers slide under him, stroking the smooth skin of his perineum and back across the skin of his hole. His breath catches and he bucks towards him and Bond uses his other hand to stroke the silky, veined length of his cock.

 

“James…” He catches his breath as Bond squeezes gently.

 

“Do you know what you’re doing?” He looks at Q.

 

“No.” Q grins. “Though, I wasn’t too sure if you had any experience at all.” Q frowns momentarily and pushes Bond back onto the bed.  
“I thought we’d got over that young, inexperienced stuff. “ His grin darkens. “Though if you prefer to think of me as a virgin, I’m sure that could work.”

 

“Q! I’m shocked.” A smile plays upon his lips at the thought, though if anyone were to play the virgin here...

 

“Now, that I find hard to believe.” His eyes become serious again and he leans in and kisses Bond. 

 

“What would you like me to do?” He whispers.

 

“Whatever you want.” He stops and looks at Bond.

 

“To be honest, one of the attractions was the way you just bloody well took what you wanted. Lovely though this is…” He didn’t have a chance to say anything before Bond has twisted him round and onto his back, biting hungrily at his neck, one hand holding Q by the wrists as he had done so earlier in the evening. Q was right, he wanted him too much to wait and the prospect of doing to Q what he’d wanted to before they were interrupted... His free hand moves around Q’s cock again and he pushes against him as Q writhes under him.

 

“God, I want you to fuck me.” Q bites into his shoulder and bends his knees up to wrap his legs round Bond’s hips. Bond releases his wrists and props himself up on one elbow as his fingers move over the tip and slide down the shaft, squeezing and releasing, coiling around, teasing, then gripping firmly. His wants to fuck him, but eyes are transfixed on Q, watching his mouth open, eyes half shut as Bond works on him. Then Q reaches and and takes Bond’s aching cock into his hand and his body shudders, involuntary movements starting to take over, any thoughts of prolonging things disappearing.

 

“Oh, Q…” He whispers his name. He feels warm splashes on his abdomen as Q comes, the pulse of his cock between his fingers, warm liquid sliding along his length and sees the spasm of release across his face. It pushes him over and he jerks and cries out as he comes, sinking against his body, Q pulling him into to kiss him as their bodies rock slowly together. He’s aware of Q’s hands, one wet leaving a trail across his back, the air cooling it, heightening the sensitivity of his skin. He brings his hand to Q’s shoulder, caressing his neck, mouths still locked together. He hadn’t felt such emotional as well as physical release in a long, long time.

 

After an age, he pulled away from the kiss, looking into Q’s green eyes, he was in as much a stupor as Bond, he smiled softly, the edge of his mouth flickering with delight. He kissed his lips again, then his jaw and along his throat, desire and curiosity growing as he moved his tongue down Q’s torso, finding a slick of wet, licking and tasting. It was bitter, but by the time he his tongue had reached Q’s cock, he was growing accustomed to it. His eyes watched Q as he took his softened cock in his mouth, saw his eyes widen, his lips part. His tongue licked along him, tasting him, lips sucking gently against him. It felt right, he pulled off as Q moaned softly, he moved to his balls, sucking each one gently, before his tongue licked down the smooth skin and then pushed through the curve of his arse. He thought he’d hesitate, would be reluctant, but he wanted to pleasure Q, to know him. His tongue licked around his entrance, then pushed gently in. Bond watched the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the soft bucking of his hips as he moved against his tongue. His lips were parted in a soft O and his eyes were half closed. He looked exquisite. He was opening to him, slick with saliva and his cock was hardening again. He wondered if he could make him come like that.


	7. Chapter 7

Bond watched Q as he walked to the bathroom. The soft light from the bedside light threw his muscles into gentle relief and Bond sighs in pleasure as he lies on the bed.

Q would have come, but his hand hand reached behind Bond’s head and pulled him up towards him, eyes almost drunk with longing, he twisted out from under him, tugging Bond onto his back, an almost predatory smile on his face as he kissed him, biting his lip, then moving slowly down his neck and torso, his cool, slim fingers pressing into his hips as his tongue swept the length of his cock before slowly working his way back up and taking him in his mouth. He looked down at him. It was even better than he’d imagined. There was no disconnection between what he was doing and how he felt. He wanted this as much as Bond did, and Bond knew he had done for even longer, before Bond was aware of what he would become to him. He moved under Q’s touch, his fingers in his hair. He loved his hair. He smiled at the thought. Then Q released his cock and caressed his balls with his mouth, licking lower and then entering him. His eyes closed as he surrendered to the feel of him, wanting him to fill him, take him. He pushed against his tongue, his fingers finding Q’s, interlacing and bringing them to his mouth. He sucked them as Q moaned, then released them and Q used one, then another to push inside.

 

He moved his body up to look at Bond, his fingers sliding deeper. Bond brought his head into a kiss, hips pushing at his hand.

 

“Fu…”

“Yes…”

 

“Now…”

 

Q paused and brought his head up.

 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He looked slightly hesitant.” Especially since it’s your…”

 

“Bedside drawer.” His eyes flicked to the left and Q reached over with a smile and found the bottle of lube and condoms that Bond had placed there in the hope that Q would be interested. He didn’t take conquests back to his, ever. His flat was his sanctuary.

 

He kissed him and pulled him close, as Q pushed his hips forward, gently and Bond felt the pressure, the sting, but his didn’t care. He was relaxed enough and he wanted him. His hands pressed on Q’s hips, pushing him deeper and Q’s breathing was irregular as he thrust against him, getting deeper.

 

“God, yes, Q, yes…” He groaned as Q slid against his prostate. He’d heard about the heightened pleasure, but Christ…

 

“James, James…” Q was loosing the ability to speak and Bond wasn’t much more coherent. His fingers dug into his flesh and their movements accelerated, Q pushing harder and Bond matching his thrusts. He wanted Q to come, to watch as he surrendered, lost his control. He did and Bond held him, content.

He came later, watching those green eyes as he held his neck, fingers buried in his dark hair as his cock spasmed into his mouth. He was undone.

 

Q slid back into bed, placing his glasses on the table, and Bond pulled him close. They regarded each other across the pillows. Bond tried not to grin, but gave up as Q’s matched his.

 

“Hmm.”

 

“Yeah, well that was unexpected.”

 

“Which part?” Bond considered. “All of it.” Q looked at him in amusement. 

 

“Me fucking you?”

 

“Well, that...”

 

“It surprised me, you wanting that. In a very good way, it has to be said.” Bond grinned.

 

“I meant falling for you.” Q looked like a startled fawn.

 

“So you?”

 

“Yes, I do.”

 

“Oh.” Bond grinned.

 

“Thank fuck for that.” He kissed him. “I do too.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Target practice. Part two. Or, Bond puts Q under stress.

“We’ll take the Tube.” He’d grinned at Bond when he told him and Bond had sighed, but agreed. Then he worked out the reason for Q’s choice. His dark hair was pushed against Bond’s cheek, his gaze fixed calmly along the length of the carriage as his groin pressed against him.

 

“Packed as always.” Q murmured.

 

“Hmm.” Q’s hand was under his jacket and his fingers pressed into his arse as Bond leaned his back on the door. “Best hold tight.” He said as the train jolted slightly. Q looked at him and brushed a light kiss onto his lips as he pulled away, twisting to exit, his hand finding Bond’s to pull him through the crowds. He kept it there as they walked to work and didn’t really want to release it as they got closer. Then he felt Q move into professional mode and he followed, allowing himself a complicit grin.

 

Bond finished replying to various pointless things that flashed up for his urgent attention, then leant back in his chair, tapping his fingers on the edge of his desk. He’d put Q out of his mind for, he checked his watch. Hmm, two hours. He rose and walked to Q branch.

 

He settled in his usual spot. This time he knew Q was aware of him from the outset. His shoulders were relaxed, fingers moving fluidly over his keyboard as he watched. After a while Q stood up and reached for something across his desk. It was a totally unnecessary action and Bond was about to get up when Moneypenny rapped on the doorframe and walked in with a file.

 

“Morning boys.” She glanced at Bond. “Haven’t you anything better to do?”

 

“No.”

 

“Is he annoying you? Do I have to do something?” She asked Q.

 

“He wants to see how my marksmanship is coming along. We’ll be on the range shortly.” His eyes met Bond’s. “Why don’t you set up? I’ll be down in ten.” He nodded and left, face impassive until he was in the corridor.

 

Q aimed and fired in quick succession. Bond moved closer, his body pressed lightly against Q’s.

 

“Again.” His accuracy continued. Bond put his hands on his hips and pulled him closer.

 

“Again.” Q swallowed and fired. Bond slid his hand into his trousers and found his cock, it leapt against his touch and grew harder as his fingers moved along its length. Bond kissed the nape of his neck and inhaled his scent. Q pushed back against his cock and then against his hand. Bond’s movements intensified.

 

“Again.” His arms twitched slightly, then he breathed and fired.

 

“Good.”

 

“Yes.” Q groaned out the word. Bond’s fingers increased their pressure, stroking hard against his length and he licked his nape, pressing his hard cock against his arse. Q’s breathing was increasing, his was close to coming.

 

“Again.” He paused.

 

“Don’t think.” Q fired. On target.

 

“Fuck, James… I’m…”

 

“Shoot.” He felt the recoil of the pistol and the warmth in his palm, the muscular spasms of his cock and he bit gently on his shoulder through his shirt to hold himself from coming too. Q sank back against him and Bond reached and took his gun with his free hand, applying the safety. He felt so good, he wrapped his arm around him while his body recovered, then released him. He placed the gun on the bench running along the edge of the lane and sat down and licked his palm.

 

Q looked at him, his face still slightly flushed, lips parted and red.

 

“You’re an absolute bastard, you know?” He approached him, grinning and bent down and kissed him deeply, wetly. Bond pushed against his mouth. “An…” He bit his lip. “Absolute…” Sucked at his lips. “Bastard.” He kissed him hard again, then knelt down in front of him, hands undoing his belt buckle and then his zip as they kissed. “I think I need to take you in hand.” He grabbed his cock, thumb smearing the tip with moisture.

 

“Please do.” He barely managed to speak as Q bent and licked his cock and took him into his mouth, his fingers wrapped around the base, wrist moving quickly. Bond watched as he sucked and licked him, never breaking his gaze. Q, Q, Q...

 

“Oh, fuck, Q…” He stopped and smirked at him.

 

“Yes?” Bond grinned at his front and put his fingers into his hair, pulling his head back to him. Q's tongue licked his length, making his hips push against him.

 

“I’ll come on your shirt.” The look in Q’s eyes said that he wouldn’t mind.

 

“Another time perhaps, but now I want to taste you.” He took him in his mouth again, his fingers moving to his arse. Bond came as they slid inside. Q continued to lick and hold his cock as his orgasm subsided. His fingers continued to explore him and Bond stroked his hair. His hand stiffened as he heard the door to the ranges open in the distance. Q continued as he was, a small smile on his face. Bond knew he was calculating how long he had before the footsteps reached them and Bond realised he didn’t care if someone found him with the quartermaster sucking his cock, Q didn’t look too worried either. Then he stopped, grabbed his gun and scuttled over to the bench facing and started dismantling the pistol. Bond pulled his clothing back and zipped his fly, almost managing the buckle. He pulled his jacket across his lap.

 

“Ah, Q, there you are.” The tech looked nervous seeing Bond, but Bond just watched Q work.

 

“Yes?”

 

“Tanner wouldn’t mind a word with you.” He paused, looking uncomfortable. “Now.” Q looked up.

 

“Okay, I’ll just finish up.” The tech glanced down at the target.

 

“Nice grouping, if I may say so, Sir.” Bond glanced down. Only one was slightly off, he grinned.

 

“Thanks, 007 gave me a few pointers.”

 

“That was under extreme duress too.” Bond added.

 

“Wow, well done Sir.” Q smiled in dismissal and the tech left. Q sat back on his haunches as he finished cleaning the pistol and looked at Bond.

 

Bond stared back, then walked over to him and Q rose to meet him. Their lips locked, hungry for each other again, hands all over each other. Bond broke away slightly.

 

“So, I thought I’d work out tonight, bit stiff from lack of sleep.”

 

“Good idea. Erica wants me back.” Q’s smirk was as broad as a Cheshire cat’s. “As does Tanner.”


	9. Chapter 9

His breath is regular, but heavier, coming in time with his footfall. His mind is closed, undistracted, settling into the quiet rhythm, covering the distance efficiently, abstractly counting down the distance. He knows when he’s done enough and slows and pauses the machine, toweling off the sweat on his face. He’s not a fan of treadmills, but London at this time of night is impossible for a good distance run.

 

The door opens as he moves to the weights and he doesn’t acknowledge it, he selects the appropriate pieces and goes through his established routine as he hears them start to spar. He keeps his back to them, concentrating, feeling his muscles work, flexing and stretching them to ensure that he has done enough. Finally he turns to finish with chin ups and faces the mat. These are his favourite, using his body weight to strengthen him, essential for the field. He feels the burn in his arms as he does his reps, then hangs silently, feeling his fingers tighten, pushing himself to hold on longer as he watches.

He can sense Q’s posture stiffen slightly as he feels Bond’s gaze on his back and Erica has him and he’s trapped. He sees her quip something and Q blush. Bond smiles to himself, he can imagine what she’s said. He releases his grip and stretches before moving to the shower.

 

The water is warm and the pressure good, thankfully, MI6 hadn’t stinted on the plumbing. He finished washing and let the water cascade over his head, eyes closed, a smile on his lips as he heard the curtain move slightly and Q move silently into the spray. His eyes opened and their lips locked, Q pushing him back against the wall, pressing into him.

 

“What took you so long?” He murmured between kisses. Q smiled and licked along his jaw.

 

“Things to do, stretches, weights, throw Erica off the scent.” His hands swept the length of Bond’s torso. “Wait for the other person in here to leave.” He pushed his hips against him as he spoke, fingertips trailing around his side and down the base of Bond’s spine. Bond kissed him hungrily, tongues tasting each other and he pulled him closer, fingers digging into the flesh of his thighs. Q pulled back slightly, eyes dark.

 

“She wants to take you up on the offer of a drink, so I said we’d meet her outside shortly.” He grinned and his hand slid between them, grasping Bond’s cock. 

 

“Wouldn’t want to keep the lady waiting.”

 

“No, we wouldn’t.” Q gasped as Bond’s fingers found his cock, moving deftly along the shaft. There was no time for finesse, they moved urgently against each other, mouths over each other’s neck, torsos, lips and when Bond felt Q close to coming, he moved away, sinking to his knees before taking Q in his mouth, wanting the taste of him. Q came silently, holding back the sounds that had filled Bond’s mind the previous night. He watched his lover. Q’s expression gave Bond what he needed.

 

“James.” He whispered, eyes closed and Bond stood, kissing his open mouth and Q held him.

 

“That was quick.” Erica regarded them steadily as they approached.

 

“I’m nothing, but efficient.” Smiled Q. She hooked an arm around his.

 

“Yes, you are and adorable too.” Bond watched Q blush again.

 

“Take the compliment, it’s true.” Q looked down and Bond grinned and brushed a kiss on his lips. Q looked up slightly startled, then laughed and kissed him back.   
Bond slid an arm around his waist and they started walking and Q’s fingers held onto Bond’s hip feeling its movement.

 

Erica had said nothing, for which he was grateful. She was as trained as he was and she knew already that they were lovers. If she hadn’t, she should retire. He was glad she knew, it gave him a chance to see how it felt, knowing that it wasn’t a secret, wasn’t unrequited.

 

They sat in the back of the bar, Bond with his back to the wall and Q opposite. Erica went to get the drinks. Bond looked at Q’s hand as it rested on the table, then held it, thumb rubbing his palm. Q leant closer, elbows resting on the table, practically purring.

 

“Do you think she’s guessed yet?” He laughed.

 

“Possibly.” Bond looked deadpan.

 

“I think she knew something was up when I asked her to train me.” He noted Bond’s question. “I said you were concerned for me. My poker face isn’t as good as yours under the questioning stare of an agent. My interest may have registered very slightly.”

 

“Hmm. You know, I’d no idea that you were interested.” He grinned slightly. “Well, at first it didn’t register obviously, then once you were under my skin…” He breathed heavily. “Christ, how do people do normal dating? Bloody mixed signals and self doubt all the time.” Q laughed.

 

“Yeah.” He looked serious. “Then there were professional boundaries to consider too.” He looked into Bond’s eyes. “Wanting to fuck you over my desk made work rather distracting.” Heat rose in Bond’s groin and his thumb pressed harder into Q’s palm, his fingers stroking his wrist. He looked at Q’s lips, red and full still from their kissing.

 

“You’re going to kill me.” Q’s eyebrow raised slightly. “The contrast between that innocuous face and that mouth.” His lips broadened into a smirk and his voice lowered.

 

“Mmm. I’ll be doing exclusive comms for your missions from now on. I’ve a secure private channel too.” Bond swallowed, mind into overdrive at the thought. He paused his reply, glancing up as Erica arrived back with a bottle of wine and two glasses. She grinned at them and nodded over her shoulder.

 

“I know you’ll be terribly disappointed boys, but I’ve had a better offer.” Bond glanced at the very attractive man seated at the bar and grinned.

 

“We’ll cope, enjoy your evening.” She leant and kissed his cheek.

 

“I’m so happy for you, you’re going to be great together.” She smiled at Q. “Do you want to continue once I’m back from duty?”

 

“Yes, he does and I’m counting on you and the others to keep him safe when I’m not here.”

 

“Consider it done.” She walked back to the bar.

 

“God, you’re not going to go all over protective on me, are you?” Bond considered.

 

“Yes, but discreetly. And you can talk, how protective of me are you when I’m in the field?”

 

“Not enough sometimes, I feel.” He wrapped his other hand on Bond’s. “Just keep coming back.”

 

“Try and stop me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, commenting and kudos, it's such a buzz. Hope you liked it.


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